


I try to tell you that I love you and it comes out sounding like I'm sad

by exhaustedwerewolf



Category: The Shapeshifter & Unleashed - Ali Sparkes
Genre: (i.e. rereading the books as an adult you realise the Mia-Effect is real messed up), Adolescent Sexuality, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Best Friends to Kissing in a Treehouse, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Hair Brushing, I haven't read the books in perhaps three years or written for them in five so please be kind, Implied/Referenced Stalking, Is it gay to think your roommate looks like a princess and brush her hair?, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Pre-Unleashed, Pyrokinesis Angst, Telepathy, The Mia-Effect, also I have no memory of what time of year the dance occured so it's late winter now, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29862438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exhaustedwerewolf/pseuds/exhaustedwerewolf
Summary: The day after the disaster at the dance, Lisa thinks on the opportunities she's missed as a COLA. Mia seeks her best friend out, and confessions are made, and left unspoken.
Relationships: Mia Cooper/Lisa Hardman
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	I try to tell you that I love you and it comes out sounding like I'm sad

**Author's Note:**

> title is from [lavender by penelope scott](https://open.spotify.com/track/1cliEFmlQVcO8Z7KdoV6co?si=N0vfJvxzSxmIVDiji925LA)  
> hope you enjoy!

The bare branches are splayed against the blankness of the sky at all the wrong angles, like broken limbs. It’s a white noise sort of morning- quiet, lukewarm, punctuated only with unremarkable birdsong and the trudge of Mia’s footsteps as she passes through the wood. Still, there’s flowers beginning to struggle to life, at least, pale clusters of snowdrops and small, early daffodils. A crow alights on a bough, stirring its sleek wings, and watches her pass.

Lisa had been gone by the time she’d awoke that morning- not unusual, if she’d got up for a run, but when Mia had returned from breakfast she’d noticed that Lisa’s trainers were still in the rack by the door. Her hiking boots, though, were gone.

She’d known at once where to look.

In the summer, the treehouse almost melts into the woods, a sanctuary wrapped in the whispering of the leaves and the muted _coo_ of wood pigeons. It’s easy to pretend it’s a world away from the College. Now it sits starkly, like a barren nest- Mia knows she can just about glimpse the suggestion of it from the classroom if she leans back in her chair. 

As she climbs, one of the rungs of the ladder creaks underfoot and Mia hesitates. 

Lisa’s voice breaks the quiet.

“I know it’s you,” she says, tone a little sullen. “ _You_ can come up.”

Mia tries to ignore the way this makes her feel- silly, really, the small spark of delight at just _not_ being turned away- and clambers up into the treehouse. As she hoists herself up onto the platform, her fingers brushes the frame of the doorway nostalgically- of course Lisa would be here. This place is made of all of them- from here, Mia can see the rust-coloured stain where Gideon hammered his thumb, the talon-marks Dax’s scrabbly take-offs have left in the sill. A breeze wends through the air, and the chimes Jennifer hung from a low branch tinkle musically. Lisa might pretend not to have carved herself into this place, but her presence pulses through the space, as inseparable as the grains ripple through the wood. Mia can’t help but feel her face soften when she sees her, sat in a corner with a pile of worn fashion magazines and her makeup bag.

Lisa glances up at her, eyes rimmed with dusk-blue shadows. Mia’s breath catches a little- she’s known Lisa long enough to know when she’s just plain sulking- but she’s her _best friend_ , she knows when she’s _sad,_ would know even if she couldn’t taste her pain like the electricity of an approaching storm. Lisa always tries to hide a sleepless night, a vicious migraine, the outlines of someone else’s trauma burned into the backs of her eyelids like brands with petty insults and pouts, but it never works on Mia.

Still, she’s beautiful- really, genuinely beautiful. There’s no trick of the light here, Lisa doesn’t have whatever it is about Mia’s ability that bends boring white light into some glaring, hypnotic spectrum. Amongst the strange colourness of the winter wood, she’s like a pastel drawing in a black-and-white photograph; Mia can’t look away from the rich blue of her eyes, the rose-quartz pink of her lips and flushed cheeks. A lock of hair, curling where her collarbone slopes under her alpaca-blend jumper.

“Well?” Lisa’s voice is rough, from sleeplessness or crying Mia doesn’t know. She tilts her head, brandishing a bottle of nail varnish. “Come sit.” 

Mia does. Lisa takes her hand in her lap and splays her fingers out on her jeans to keep them flat, and bends her head down to work.

The powdery scent of lavender brings her back to Terragen College- watching her new roommate from behind a book as she sat cross-legged on her bed, roughly tugging a brush through her golden hair, which had already looked perfect to Mia before she’d started. The crystalline bottle of lavender oil on her dresser looked like a potion out of a storybook. 

_Princess_ , they’d all called her, to make fun of her for being spoiled. But whoever heard of a Princess without a curse?

When the other side stole too close, Mia sat with her legs around Lisa, and ran the brush through her hair. It was all softness, the graze of the silk of Lisa’s expensive pyjamas against her skin, the gentle warmth radiating from her back, the faint rush of her breath against Mia’s cheek. She knew it helped; the lavender oil, the expensive tubes of lip gloss, the rosey palettes of blush and eyeshadow, all of it. Something about how no-one who looked so perfectly put together could possibly be coming apart inside.

Lisa’s halfway through her left-hand before Mia realises she’s chosen lavender for her nails, too. The shade isn’t dissimilar to that of the dress Lisa wore last night- it had looked lovely with her pale hair falling about her shoulders, and Mia had almost regretted choosing moonstone for Lisa- there was something of raw amethyst to her, all shine and sharp edges. Purple is the colour of royalty, after all. 

Not that it mattered, if the bracelet didn’t match the dress. It was crumpled in the bottom of their closet now, and Mia doubted Lisa would ever want to wear the thing again. 

“Are you upset about the dance?” her voice comes out all hushed and breathy, unintentionally like she’s trying to soothe, so it’s no surprise when Lisa rolls her eyes at her.

“I don’t know-” she sighs, and then, moving onto Mia’s right hand, “Careful, keep still until they’re dry.” It’s quiet for a moment- so quiet Mia can hear the brush against her nail. “It’s not as if I wasn’t expecting it all to go to pieces sooner or later. I just thought…” 

“I’m sorry,” Mia says, before she can stop herself. 

Lisa shakes her head at her, and Mia catches the trace of a thought like a faint echo on the air;

_It’s not like it was your fault._

Mia winces, remembering the painfully searing blaze of heat against her face, the snatch of a scream- but it goes unnoticed.

“I wanted one normal night,” Lisa goes on, aloud. “Just one. To talk and dance… kiss someone, maybe.” She gives a little shrug, like it’s just occurred to her- but Mia knows her better than that, and her heart sinks in her chest.

“Oh come on, you’ve probably kissed…” Mia hesitates, “Boys.” 

Lisa laughs, a little bitterly.

“ _When?_ We don’t exactly get many opportunities to socialise with anyone apart from-” she makes a vague gesture. “And I don’t exactly fancy the idea of snogging someone on summer hols knowing Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are ten feet away, watching me through eye holes cut into a newspaper.”

Mia laughs despite herself, shuddering at the thought.

“No, stop,” she protests with exaggerated disgust, and Lisa’s eyes brighten a little. A strand of hair falls into Mia’s face, and she tosses her head in an effort to get it out of her eyes without smudging her nails, still placed obediently in Lisa’s lap. Lisa’s mouth curves into a perfect smile.

“Here, silly,” she tuts, and reaches out to smooth it behind her ear. Her hand lingers for just a heartbeat, and Mia says quietly;

“Neither have I, you know.”

A flicker of surprise crosses Lisa’s expression. Her face is so close, Mia could count her eyelashes- Lisa has always complained she wanted them to be dark, like Mia’s, but Mia thinks they’re gorgeous. Angelic, maybe.

“Really?” Lisa asks, “I- would have thought with…” she trails off, and Mia appreciates her leaving the question unvoiced. She knows how she hates the Mia-Effect, knows the true ugliness of it- they sat with their knees touching just like this when she talked about the first time a grown man had followed her off the bus- she’d only been ten, hadn’t known what was happening- until she took so many turns trying to lead him away from her Dad’s flat through the rain she ended up shivering, drenched and lost.

“No, I… No.” Mia says, carefully.

“Do you want to?” The question catches Mia by surprise; and Lisa too, judging by the blush that blossoms across her cheeks, the small, sudden jolt of her thoughts, like the lurch of looking down from a height. But as Mia’s eyes flicker to her lips, the subtle glitter of her lip gloss, she sees her take a breath- “Kiss someone, I mean?”

Mia nods, heart burning- not truly believing Lisa is saying what she thinks she’s saying until she leans in. 

The kiss starts out gentle, unsure- neither of them know quite what to do once their lips meet, and Mia can’t move her hands with the polish still wet. Lisa’s hand comes up to gently cup her cheek, and Mia tilts her chin, and the kiss deepens. Dizzying heat rushes through Mia’s veins, and for a moment, she genuinely thinks she’s about to burst into flames. But the fire recedes to a gentler warmth, the pleasantly radiating heat of a campfire- the headiness of woodsmoke and the crack and give of the wood-

Lisa’s fingers encircle Mia’s wrist, brushing her bracelet, and the onyx shifts against Mia’s skin, shockingly cold. The chill of it sends Mia shuddering out of the kiss, and she pulls back abruptly- Lisa’s tugged with her for a heartbeat, her eyes still closed, until she registers that Mia’s broken the kiss and her eyes flicker open. 

“Mia?” she asks, and Mia can feel the feather-touch of Lisa’s mind against her thoughts, hesitant, almost shy- Mia slams her walls up before she can think twice about it. Lisa reels back as if struck, her fingers ghosting the corner of her mouth, and regret aches in Mia’s throat even as she scrambles to her feet. 

“I should go,” she says, and turns away.

When Mia arrives back at the house, she runs straight to the sink. She scrubs away the polish, and tosses the scorched cloth into the laundry hamper, her fingertips still prickling with heat.

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be for femslash february but it was an alarmingly busy month for me. thanks for reading, if you want to chat or have any requests you can reach me on tumblr as always [@exhaustedwerewolf](https://exhaustedwerewolf.tumblr.com/)


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